The Other Potter
by PatchyFog
Summary: Harry James Potter has a twin sister named Samantha Lily Potter. They are The Twins Who Lived. They defeated Voldermort as baby's but now he's coming back. This is the story of Harry Potter except this time he has a twin. How much will the story change with this very important extra character? I do not own Harry Potter. Eventual Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione and OC/Fred
1. Chapter 1

**I only own Samantha Lily Potter, nobody and nothing else. I will be starting on page 13. Sorry for the long, boring start and I can promise the next chapter will be more exciting. Please review because the more reviews I get the quicker I will update. xx**

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**Third Person's POV**

. . .

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" She asked.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no - even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls ... shooting stars ... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent - I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours."

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was goinjg to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on: "A fine thing it be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really _has _gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a sherbet lemon?"

"A _what_?"

"A sherbet lemon. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm ratther fond of."

"No, thank you." Said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for sherbet lemons. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who _has_ gone -"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself cn call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense - for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: _Voldemort._" Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two sherbet lemons, seemed not to notice. "It all get's so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who'. I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half-axasperated and half-admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know - oh, all right, _Voldemort_ - was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too - well - _noble_ to use them."

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing to the _rumours_ that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever 'everyone' was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her was the true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another sherbet lemon and did not answer.

"What they're _saying_," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are - are - that they're - _dead_."

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James ... I can't believe it ... I didn't want to believe it ... oh, Albus ..."

Dumbledore reached out and patted her shoulder. "I know ... I know ..." he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potters' twins, Harry and Samantha. But - he couldn't. He couldn't kill the baby's. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry and Samantha Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke - and that's why he's gone."

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's - it's _true_?" falterd Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done ... all the people he's killed ... and he couldn't kill two little children? It's just astounding ... of all the things to stop him ... but how in the name of heaven did they survive?"

"We can only guess." Dumbledore said, "We may never know."

"Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore took a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers: instead little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," Professor McGonagall answered. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me _why_ you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry and Samantha to they're aunt and uncle. They're the only family they have left now."

"You don't mean - you _can't_ mean the people who live _here_?" Professor McGonagall cried as she jamp up and pointed at number four. "Dumbledore - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us and they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry and Samantha Potter come and live here!"

"It's the best place for them, Professor." Dumbledore said firmly. "Their aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to them when their older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" The Professor repeated faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore? You think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand them! They'll be famous - legand's - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as The Potter Twins Day in future - there will be books written about Harry and Samantha - every child in our world will know their names!"

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any child's head. Famous before they can even walk or talk! Famous for something they can't even remember! Can you not see how much better off they'll be, growing up away from all that until their ready to take it?"

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed and then said, "Yes - yes, you're right, of course. But how are they getting here, Dumbledore?" She I eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding the twins underneath it.

"Hagrid's bringing them." Dumbledore said simply.

"Do you think it is - _wise_ - to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grugingly, "but you can't prtend he's not careless. He does tend to - What was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It was steadily growing as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky - and a huge motorbike fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

If the motorbike was huge, it was nothing compared to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply to big to be allowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of dustbin lids and his feet in their boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding two bundles of blankets.

"Hagrid," Dumbledore said, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorbike?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," Said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorbike as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it me. I've got them, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir - house was almost destroyed but I got them out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol but she's stayed awake the whole time."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the first bundle of blankets. Inside, just visable, was a baby boy, fast asleep. And under a tuft of jet black hair over his forhead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a lightning bolt.

"Is that where -?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes." Dumbledore answered.

They then looked inside the second bundle of blankets, where there was a baby girl with short waves of inky black hair, and she was smiling up at the two Professors and her shimmery, light blue eyes were wide with child-like wonder. She gurgeled up at them and then closed her eyes peacefully and fell gently asleep. This gave the two Professors a chance to look away from her mezmorizing eyes and notice that she, too, had a scar except her's was above her right breast and was just like an add sign. (+)

"She has a scar just like her brother." Professor McGonagall stated.

"Yes." Dumbledore said even though he knew it wasn't a question. "Both of them will have those scars for life."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"No and even if I could I wouldn't - scars can come in useful. I have one myself above me left knee which is perfect map of the London underground. Well, give them to us, Hagrid, we'd better get this over with."

Dumbledore took Harry in his arms while Professor McGonagall took Samantha and then they both turned to face the Dursleys' house.

"Could I - could I say goodbye, sir." Hagrid asked. Dumbledore nodded slightly and Hagrid bent over and gave Harry a scratchy, whiskery kiss. But before he could give a kiss goodbye to Samantha Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog and tears began to run down his face.

"Shhh!" Hissed Professor McGonagall. "You'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-sorry," He sobbed, taking out a large spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I can't stand it - Lily an' James dead - an' poor little Harry an' Sam off ter live with Muggles -"

"Yes, yes, it is very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found." Professor Mcgonagall whispered to Hagrid before following Dumbledore up to the front door of the house and laying Samantha, gently, next to her brother in front of the door. Dumbledore than got a letter out from one of the many pockets he had on the inside of his cloak, and put it gently on-top of Harry. The Professor's then walked back to where Hagrid was still standing and then they stood there in complete silence for a whole minuet; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously and the twinkling that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

Dumbledore was the first to break the silence by saying, "Well, that's that. We've no buisness staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations.

"Yeah," Hagrid said in a muffeled voice. "I'd best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall - Professor Dumbledore, sir." And then, wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve. Hagrid swung himself onto the motorbike and kicked the engine into life, with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall." Said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive suddenly glowed orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could bearly see the bundles of blanket's now.

"Good luck, Harry and Samantha," He murmered. He then turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Introduction:**

Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew and neice on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardley changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living-room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lot's of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-coloured bobble hats - but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photo's showed a large, blond boy riding his first bycicle, on a roundabout at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another two children lived in the hous, too.

Yet Harry Potter and his sister Samantha Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. Their Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice which made the first noise of the day and woke the twins up.

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**Sam's POV**

"Up! Get up! Now!"

It was Aunt Petunia's screechy voice that woke me up with a start from a dream; a dream which involved a very strange looking old man, and the dream left me wanting my favrouite sweet; sherbet lemons. Strange.

Harry had woken with a start as well and I sighed as I slowly sat up and then I sighed again.

"Up! Now!" She once again screeched with a few rapp's on the door. Then I heard her walk away towards the kitchen and I ignored all noise from her after that. I was extremely sure that I'd had the same drem multipule times before.

Petunia was back outside the door with no warning at all.

"Are you up yet?" She demanded.

"Nearly." Harry said.

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And I want your sister to make the coffee. Don't let them burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."

Coffee? How the heck would I be able to burn coffee? How would anyone manage to burn coffee?

Harry had obviously forgotten about the fat pigs birthday because after that comment from Petunia he had groaned.

"What did you say?" our Aunt snapped through the door.

"Nothing, nothing ..." Harry said with a sigh.

She left again and I muttered out loud to Harry, "How the hell would I manage to burn coffee?"

Harry grinned at that and then went to hunt down his socks, when he found them on the floor he pulled a spider out of one of them and put it gently into my hand. I cooed at the spider as it scuteled around my hand for a few seconds before I out it down on the floor. Me and Harry were used to to spiders now, mostly because the cupboard which we slept in was full of them.

We both got changed quickly and went down the hall to the kitchen once we were finished dressing.

The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthdays presents. It looked as thought Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second TV and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was an exremely big mystery to me and Harry as Dudley was very fat and absoloutly hated doing exercise - unless it involved punchins someone. His favrouite punch-bag was Harry or me, but he couldn't catch us often. We may not look it but me and Harry were both very fast.

Prehaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but me and Harry had always been small and skinny. Harry always looked smaller and skinnier than he actually was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's and Dudley was about four times bigger than Harry. Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, messy black hair and bright, emerald-green eyes. I had very pale skin, messy black curls that reached near the bottom of my back, and exactly the same green eyes as Harry. Harry wore round glasses that were held together by a lot of sellotape bacause of all the times Dudley punched him while I had perfect eye-sight. We both had a scar as well, Harry's was on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt which he loved, while mine was on my chest above my right breast and in the shape of an add symbol that I wasn't really bothered about.

I started making the coffee, paying attention so that I didn't burn it, while Harry put the bacon on and Uncle Vernon chose that moment to walk into the kitchen.

I grabbed a bobble of my wrist and pulled my hair into a tigth pony tail as our Uncle entered the Kitchen and he barked to Harry, "Comb your hair!"

I found it funny that every so often Uncle Vernon would glance at Harry and say that Harry needed a hair cut and the only thing that that accomplished was that Harry must have had more hair cut's than all the boys in our year put together.

Harry was cooking the eggs by the time Dudley and Aunt Petunia arrived in the kitchen. Dudley was like a mini version of Uncle Vernon and a pig. He had a large, pink face, hardly any neck to see, watery blue squinty eyes and a layer of thick blond hair that lay on his fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that he looked like an angel - me and Harry often said he looked like a pig in a wig

I helped Harry put the plates of bacon and eggs on the table, which was quiet difficult because of all the presents on there. Pig Face, meanwhile, was counting his presents.

His face fell and he looked up at Petunia and Vernon, "Thirty-six. That's two less than last year."

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Maggie's present, see, it's under this big one from Mummy and Daddy."

"All rigth, thiry-seven then." Dudley said and then he started going red in the face. Harry began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible and I followed his example, we could sense that a big tantrum was coming.

Aunt Petunia obviously sensed the big tantrum coming on slowly as well, because she quickly said, "And we'll buy you another two presents today while we're out. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right?"

Dudley wore a thoughtfull exspression and I had to admit I was a bit proud that I was a cousin to a pig that could think, although it must have been har work for him. After a few more seconds of hard thinking, he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty ... thirty ..."

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.

"Oh." Dudley said and then sat down heavily at the table and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."

Uncle Vernon chuckled.

"Little tyke want's his money's worth, just like his father. Atta boy, Dudley!" And he ruffled Dudley's hair.

Pig Face was a greedy git.

Then the phone rang and Aunt Petunia went in the living room to answer it. I watched with a dazed expression that took nothing in as Dudley opened his presents. I came back into reality when Petunia came back from the f=phone looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs Figg's broken her leg. She can't take them." And she jerked her head in our direction.

Dudley's mouth fell open in horror and me and Harry shared a small smile. Every year on Dudley's birthday Petunia and Vernon took him and a friend out for the day. Every year me and Harry were left behind with Mrs Figg, a mad old lady that lived two streets there. I hated it there and so did Harry. The house reeked of cabbage and Mrs Figg always made us look at old photo's of all her cats. I hated cats with all my heart - I was more of a dog and wolf person.

"Now what?" Aunt Petunia asked furiously with a heated glare at me as if this was all my fault. I hadn't even done anything to the old lady so I didn't see why I was shoot the glare, it easily could have been Harry although I was more likely willing to hurt someone. Harry would likely feel to guilty to hurt a poor old woman.

"We could phone Marge." Uncle Vernon suggested. I gave a little shudder at that, I was sure Marge thought I was just another bitch that was just there to breed. Disgusting woman she was.

"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the pair of them."

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon often talked about me and Harry as if we weren't there, in the same room with them. They also talked about us as if we were some horrid bug stuck in their house.

"What about what's-her-name, your friend - Yvonne?"

"On holiday in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.

"You could just leave us here," Harry suggested and I could here the hope in his voice. How the poor sod was stupid enough to even think that, I would never know.

Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd swallowed a lemon. Mmm, sherbet lemons ...

"And come back to find the house in ruins?" She snarled.

"We won't blow up the house." Harry said even though they weren't listening to him. Now blowing up the house, that would be an amazing present for Dudley in my opinion.

"I suppose we could take them to the zoo ..." Petunia said slowly, "... and leave them in the car ..."

"That car's new, their not sitting in there alone ..."

Dudley began to wail. He wasn't actually crying, it had been years since he had actually cried, but he knew if he screwed up his face and made a few wails he could get anything from his mum. I found that extremely pathetic and worried at what age would he stop doing that.

"Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let them spoil your special day!" Petunia cried, flinging her arms around him.

"I-I ... don't ... want ... them ... t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between pretend sobs. "They always sp-spoil everything!" He shot me and Harry a nasty grin through the gap in Petunias arms.

I growled a little at the pig which made Dudley pale but Harry lay a hand on my arm and I stopped, instead just baring my teeth like a dog. Hey, if I was called one I would act like one.

Then the doorbell rang - "Oh, Good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically - and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a pathetic boy that had a face of a rat and held people's arms behind their back when Dudley punched them. At the sight of his best mate Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once.

Half an hour later Harry was grinning from ear-to-ear and we both were sitting in the back of the car with Piers and Dudley. Petunia and Vernon obviously hadn't been able to think of what to do with us so we were going to the zoo. Although we had still been warned by Uncle Vernon not to do, and I qoute 'any funny buisness, anything at all'.

When Harry protested and said we wouldn't do anything Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No one ever did. But with me around I didn't really blame them. I was a major trouble maker, not always by my own choice. Sometimes things that I would never be able to explain happened to me and Harry.

I remember once, me and Harry had been running from Dudley and his mates at school. One minute we had been running the next sitting on the chimney at school. Me and Harry had gotten into major trouble for that one and it wasn't worth the laugh I got out of it. My constant laughing about the whole thing made them think it was more me than Harry so I had gotten a bigger punishment than Harry.

While Uncle Vernon drove, he complained to Aunt Petunia. Uncle Vernon liked to complain about things: people at work, me, Harry, the council, me and Harry, the bank and Harry and I were just a few of his favrouite subjects to complain about. I think it was his only hobby.

Today it was motorbikes.

"... roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said as a motorbike overtook us.

"I had a dream about motorbikes," Harry said suddenly. "It was flying."

I mentally banged my head against a wall. Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front of us. He turned right around in his seat to see Harry and he yelled like a gigantic beetroot with a moustache. "MOTORBIKES DON'T FLY!"

Dudley and Piers snickered while I glared at them which shut them up quickly.

"We know they don't." I said matter-of-factly, turning to face U ncle Vernon. "It was only a dream, chill."

It was a very sunny Saturday which ment tho zoo was packed with families. Vernon and Petunia bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice-creams at the entrance and then, because the very kind lady at the van had asked me and Harry what we wanted before Petunia and Vernon could hurry us away, they bought us a cheap lemon ice lolly each. I loved it though because what they obviousle forgot was that anything lemon I loved.

Me and Harry had the best morning we'd had in a very long time. We walked a little way apart from the others so that Dudley and Piers, who were staring to get bored with the animals by lunch-time, wouldn't fall back on their favrouite hobby of hitting us, or trying to in my case. We ate in the zoo restraurant and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerblocker glory wasn't big enough, the fat pig, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and I let Harry finish the first without me.

We both knew it was too good to last for long.

After lunch we went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark here. Behind the glass all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering, over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers quickly found the largest snake in the place, it could have wrpped its body around Uncle Vero=nons car and crushed it into a dustbin. Although it didn't look in the mood to do anything fancy at the moment as it was asleep.

This didn't sit well with Dudley. He stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.

"Make it move," He whined to Vernon, who tapped on the glass but the snake didn't budge.

"Do it again." Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon knocked on the glass again but again, nothing happened.

"This is boring." He moaned and then shuffled away with Piers.

I moved in front of the tank and Harry followed. I kinda felt sorry for the snake because it must get awfully boring and annoying with all these people visiting you and watching you and trying to wake you when you just wanted to sleep. I also felt sorry for the snake being trapped in the tank, me and Harry were only trapped in the tank when Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had guest's.

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes and slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with mine and Harry's.

It winked.

I stared and then shared a look with Harry. We both looked around and then faced the snake. Harry nudged me, hard, in thee ribs. I winked back to the snake.

"The snake jerked its head towards Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It was a look that said very plainly, in my opinion: _'I get that all the time_.'

Harry must have been thinking the same thing as me because he murmured, "I know. It must be really annoying."

The snake nodded vigorously.

"Where do you come from?" I asked quietly.

The snake jabbed it's tail at a little sign next to the glass. It read: _Boa Constrictor, Brazil._

"Was it nice there?" Harry asked the snake.

The snake jabbed its tail at the sign again and I carried on reading: _This specimen was bred in the zoo._

"Oh, I see - So you've never been to Brazil?" Harry asked.

The snake shook his head.

"Aww," I said sympathetically, "I hope you go see Brazil sometime."

The snake nodded and I was sure it was smiling. Then, as that happened, a deafening shout behind me and Harry made all three of us jump. "DUDLEY! MR DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIVE WHAT ITS DOING!"

Dudley came waddling over as fast as he could.

"Out of the way you," Dudley said, punching Harry in the ribs while pushing me making the both of us fall to the ground on out ass. What happened next I nearly missed - one minute, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.

I heard a gasp from Harry but I was shocked into silence; the glass of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out on to the floor - people throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.

As the snake slid swiftly past us, I thought I heard a low, hissing voice say, "Brazil, here I come ... Thanksss, amigosss."

I had to laugh at the keeper of the reptile house who was in shock and kept saying, "But the glass, where did the glass go?"

The zoo director kept apologizing to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Dudley and Piers were being drama queens, I had only seen the snake snap and hiss at them while they were going on about how it had nearly bitten off their legs or something when we were back in the car. Piers was calm enough to notice and say, "Harry and Sam were talking to it, weren't you?"

Uncle Vernon was decent enough to wait till Piers was gone before rounding on me and Harry. He was bright red and so angry that all he could say was, "Go - Cupboard - Stay - No meals." before he collapsed into a chair and Petunia brought him a big glass of brandy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Introduction:**

The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Harry and Samantha their longest ever punishment. By the time they were allowed out of the cupboard again, the summer holidays had started and Dudley had already broken his new cine-camera, crashed his remote-control aeroplane and, first time on his racing bike, knocked down old Mrs Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches.

Harry and Me was quite glad that school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcom and Gordon were all big and stupid, but as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader. The rest of them were all quiet happy to join in Dudley's favrouite sports: Harry-hunting and Samantha-searching.

**Sam's POV**

That was why me and Harry spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around the streets and talking about the end of the summer holidays, where there was a tiny glimer of hope. When September came we would be off to secondary school and, for the first time in our life, we wouldn't be stuck with the pig in a wig. Dudley had a place at Uncle Vernon's old school, Smeltings. It sounded like it smelt very bad there. Piers Polkiss was going there, too. Me and Harry, on the other hand, was going to Stonewall High, the local comprehensive. The pig in a wig thought this was hilerious for some odd reason.

Once, Dudley had said to us, "They stuff people's heads down the toilet first day at Stonewall. Want to come upstairs and practise?"

I don't think I had ever been prouder of having Harry as a twin brother than on that day beacause he had answered by saying, "No thanks. The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it - it might be sick."

Then we had both ran before Dudley could realize what Harry had said.

One boring day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving me and Harry at Mrs Figg's. Surprisingly, Mrs Figg wasn''t as bad as usual. It turned out she'd broken her leg tripping over one of her cats and she didn't seem quite as fond of them as before. She let us watch television and gave s a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she'd had it for several years.

That evening, Dudley paraded around the living-room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings boys wore marr=oon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. It was supposed to be good training for later in life.

After Vernon saw Dudley in his new knickerbockers he said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown up. Me and Harry didn't say anything and couldn't look each other in the eye. I though I was going choke from trying to not laugh and I knew that if I looked Harry in the eye we'd share that look and we'd both burst out laughing. I don't thnk that would have sat well with Petunia.

There was a horricle smell in the kitchen the next morning when me and Harry went for breakfast and when I first smelt it I had started to gag. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. Harry went to have a look as I was having trouble not being sick. He reported back the tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water.

"What's this?" Harry asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did when one of us asked a question.

"Your new school uniform," she said.

I took a few steps forward to look into the bowl.

"I didn't realise it had to be so wet." I choked out.

"Don't be stupid," Petunia snapped. "I'm dyeing some of Dudley's old things for you." A nod in Harry's direction. "And I'm dyeing some clothes from the charity store for you." A nod in my direction. "It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished."

I seriously doubted that and a quick look with Harry confirmed that Harry doubted it as well. I opened my mouth to argue but closed it again when Harry pinched my arm and sat at the table. I scowled but sat down next to him. I was a girl and had curves, Petunia had probably picked something that was too big and too baggy. Uch, we were so going to be bullied at Stonewall High.

Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses no doubt because of the smell from mine and Harry's school uniform. Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smeltings stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table.

They heard the click of the letter-box and the flop of letters on the doormat.

"Get the post, Dudley." Said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper.

"Make Samantha get it."

"Get the post, Samantha."

"Make Harry get it."

"Get the post, Harry."

"Make Dudley get it."

"Poke Harry with your Smeltings stick, Dudley."

Harry dodged the stick and gave me a glare before he left to get the post. I gave him a wink at which he just rolled his eyes.

A minute or two past and I sat yawning in my chair, waiting for Harry. Then Uncle Vernon shouted, "Hurry up, boy! What are you doing, checking for letter-bombs?"

He chuckled at his own joke but frowned as he saw the smirk that had come onto my face. Letter-bombs ... now there was an idea.

Harry came back in staring at one of the letters. He handed Uncle Vernon a brown letter and a post card and then sat down with the other two. He gave one to me and I froze when I read the address.

**_Miss S. Potter_**  
**_The Cupboard under the Stairs_**  
**_4 Privet Drive_**  
**_Little Whinging_**  
**_Surrey_**

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment and the address was written in emerald-green ink. Ther was no stamp. I turned it over quickly and saw a purple was seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake surrounding a large letter 'H'.

"Marge's ill," I faintly heard Uncle Vernon say. "Ate a funny whelk ..."

"Dad!" Dudley suddenly exclaimed, causing me to look up from the letter. "Dad, the twins got something!"

Harry had been ahead of me and had just about to unfold his letter but then it was gone and in the hands of Uncle Vernon.

"That's mine!" Harry protested, trying to snatch it back.

"Who's be writing to you?" sneered Uncle Vernon and then he snatched my letter too.

"Hey!"

He shook Harry's letter open with one hand and after only a moment or two his face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within a few more seconds it was the greyish white of old porridge.

"P-P-Petunia!" Vernon gasped.

Dudley tried to grab the letter of Uncle Vernon but he held it high out of his reach. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and must have read only a line or two. For a moment or two it looked like she might faint and _that_ would be fun to watch. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise.

"Vernon! Oh my goodness - Vernon!"

They stared at each other and seemed to have forgotten me, Harry and Dudley were still in the room. Dudley wasn't used to being ignored so he gave Uncle Vernon a sharp tap on the head with his Smeltings stick.

"I want to read those letters," He stated loudly.

"_I_ want to read _that_ letter," Harry said furiously, "as it's _mine_."

"Hey! I want to read _my _letter as well!" I practically shouted.

"Get out, all three of you," croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing Harry's letter back inside it's envelope.

Me and Harry didn't move an inch from our seats.

"WE WANT OUR LETTERS!" Harry shouted.

"YEAH!" I shouted at the end.

"Let _me_ see them!" demanded Dudley.

"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon and he took both Harry and Dudley by the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall, he then came to me and dragged me by my arm to the kitchen door and then pushed me out. Then he slammed the kitchen door. Harry and Dudley then decided to have a silent fight about who would listen at the keyhole; I beat them to it. They both had to lie flat on the floor to listen at the crack between the door and the floor. Being me was so amazing.

"Vernon," Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, "look at the address's - how could they possible know where they sleep? You don't think they're watching the house?"

"Watching - spying - might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly. I scoffed silently. I mean, yeah right, who in their right mind would want to follow the Dursley's? They were the most boring family ever apart from me and Harry.

"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want -"

There was a silent pause and then, "No. No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer ... yes, that's best ... we won't do anything ..."

"But -"

"I'm not having one in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took them in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?"

* * *

That evening when Uncle Vernon got back from work he did something he'd never done before; visited me and Harry in the cupboard.

"Where's our letters?" Was the first thing out of Harry's mouth the moment Uncle Vernon had squeezed through the door. "Who's writing to us?"

"No one. They was addressed to you but mistake," Uncle Vernon said shortly. "I have burned them."

"They were _not _mistake's." I said angrily. "They had our cupboard on them."

"SILENCE!" Yelled Uncle Vernon, and I swear that I saw a couple of spiders fall from the ceiling. Vernon took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked very painful. I flinched and pushed myself a little further back on the bed, him smiling was worse than him yelling.

"Er - yes, Samantha, Harry - about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking-" wow, big surprise there. "-you're both really getting a bit big for it ... we think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom."

"Why?" Me and Harry asked bluntly.

"Don't ask questions!" Uncle Vernon snapped. "Take this stuff upstairs, now."

The Dursleys' had four bedrooms: one for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, one for visitors (usually Vernon's sister, Marge), one where Dudley slept and one where Dudley kept all the toys and things that wouldn't fit into his first bedroom. The little git was spoiled rotten. It only took us one trip to move everything upstairs. There was two beds opposite each other, I sat on one and Harry sat on the other. Nearly everything in here was broken. Some shelves were full of books and were the only things in the room that looked as though they'd never been touched.

From downstairs came the sound of Dudley bawling at his mother: "I don't _want_ them in there ... I _need_ that room ... make them get out ..."

Harry sighed and stretched out on the bed. "You know, Sam, yesterday I would have given anything to be up here. But now I'd rather be back in the cupboard with that letter than up here without it."

"Hmm. I totally agree with you there Harry."

Next morning at breakfast, everyone was quiet. The pig in a wig looked to be in shock. I had heard him scream, been sick on purpose, kicked Petunia, hit Uncle Vernon with that Smeltings stick and thrown his poor tortoise through the greenhouse roof, I found it hilarious that even after all that he didn't have his room back. Harry was most probably regretting not opening his letter in the hall, I was regretting not going to get the post. Petunia and Vernon kept looking at each other darkly.

When the post arrived, Uncle Vernon seemed to be trying to be nicer to me and Harry and made Dudley go and get it. I heard him banging things with his Smeltings stick all the way down the hall. Then he shouted, "There's only one this time! _Mr H. Potter and Miss S. Potter, The Smallest bedroom, 4 Privet Drive_ –"

With a strangled cry, Uncle Vernon leapt from his seat and ran down the hall, Harry right behind him. I took a slower walk to get there and by the time I did get there Vernon was wrestling Dudley and Harry was hanging off the back of Vernon's neck. After a minute of confused fighting, where even _i_ managed to get hit by that stupid Smeltings stick, Uncle Vernon had the letter and was gasping for breath while Harry and Dudley were on the floor.

"You two, go to your cupboard – I mean your bedroom," he wheezed at me and Harry. "Dudley – go – just go."

I was lying back on my bed while Harry was pacing round and round the room. I was following him with my eyes and lifted my head off the bed when he came to a standstill in the middle of the room. H is eyes were bright when he turned them on me and I knew he had a plan.

He then said the words that confirmed it, "I have a plan."

* * *

The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. I was not happy with this part of the plan as it involved getting up early but I had to sacrifice my sleep for the letter – according to Harry. Harry turned the alarm off quickly and we both dressed silently. We weren't allowed to wake the Dursleys. We crept downstairs without turning any of the lights on.

Harry said we had to wait for the postman on the corner of Privet Drive and get the letters for number four first. I held my breath as Harry crept across the dark hall towards the front door, with me right behind him –

"AAAAARRRGH!"

Harry leapt into the air and I jumped back.

Lights clicked on upstairs and to my horror I realized that the thing Harry had stood on was Uncle Vernon's face. I bit my hand to keep from laughing but a snicker came out. Vernon had been lying at the foot of the front door in a sleeping bag, clearly making sure that we didn't do exactly what we'd been trying to do. He shouted at Harry and me for about half an hour and then told us to go and make him a cup of tea. Harry shuffled miserably into the kitchen and I followed sulkily after him, by the time we got back the post had arrived, right into Uncle Vernon's lap. I could see sixe letters addressed in green ink.

"I want- " Harry began, but Vernon was already tearing the letters into pieces before our eyes.

Uncle Vernon skipped work that day. He stayed at home and nailed up the letter-box.

"See," I heard him explain to Aunt Petunia through a mouthful of nails, "if they can't deliver them they'll just give up."

"I'm not sure that'll work, Vernon."

"Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they're not like you and me," Uncle Vernon said while trying to knock in a nail with a piece of fruit cake Aunt Petunia had just brought him. Oh yes, nobody's mind could work like Uncle Vernon's and Aunt Petunia's.

* * *

On Friday, no fewer than twelve letters arrived for me and Harry. As they couldn't go through the letter-box they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs toilet.

Uncle Vernon stayed home again. After burning all the letters he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and back doors so no one could go out. He hummed 'Tiptoe through the Tulips' as he worked, and jumped at small noises. I really think the stress was finally getting to be too much for him, the poor soul.

* * *

On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Twenty-four letters to me and Harry found their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside each of the two dozen eggs that their very confused milk-man had handed Aunt Petunia through the living-room window. While Uncle Vernon made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to, Aunt Petunia shredded the letters in her food mixer.

"Who on earth wants to talk to _you two_ this badly?" Dudley asked Harry and me in amazement.

* * *

On Sunday morning, Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy.

"No post on Sundays," he reminded us all happily as he spread marmalade on his newspapers, "no damn letters today –"

Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head. I started laughing like mad and then thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets causing me to go deeper into a ciggling fit. The Dursleys ducked, but Harry leapt into the air trying to catch one –

I had folded into myself, tears of laughter going down my face when –

"Out! OUT!"

Uncle Vernon seized Harry and me around the waist, one for each arm and threw us into the hall. When Petunia and Dudley had run out with their arms over their faces, Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. I was calming down now, only quietly giggling to myself causing Harry to look at me like I was the oddest thing in the world and to him, I probably was.

"That does it," said Vernon, trying to speak calmly but pulling great tuffs out of his mustache at the same time. And let me tell you, _that _was not helping me in the least. "I want you all back here in five minutes, ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"

He looked so hilariously dangerous with half moustache missing that not one of dared to argue. Ten minutes later and we had wrenched our way through the boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding towards to motorway. The pig in a wig was sniffling in the back seat; Vernon had hit him round the head for holding them up while he tried to pack his television, video and computer in his sports bag.

Uncle Vernon drove, and drove. Even Aunt Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Vernon would take a sharp turning and rive in the opposite direction for a while.

"Shake 'em off ... shake 'em off," he would mutter whenever he did this. I really wanted to meet the people sending me and Harry those letters now, I wanted to learn how they got him into this state.

Uncle Vernon didn't stop the car to eat or drink all day. By nightfall Dudley was howling and I was getting a serious headache from him. He was probably starving and upset that he had missed a few of his precious television programmes he'd wanted to see. Oh, the poor lad.

Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley, Harry and me hared a room with twin beds and a sofa. Harry got the sofa. Dudley snared but I stayed awake, staring at the ceiling while Harry sat n the window-sill, staring down.

"Who do you think it is that keeps sending us those letters?" I asked, not moving my eyes of the ceiling.

"Dunno." I heard him answer. "Do you think it's ..."

* * *

We all ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day. We had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to our table.

"'Scuse me, but is one of you Mr H. Potter? Or S. Potter? Only I got about an 'undred of these at the front desk."

She held up a letter so we could read the green ink address:

_Mr H. Potter and Miss S. Potter  
Room 17  
Railview Hotel  
Cokeworth_

I made a grab for the letter as I was closer to it than Harry but Uncle Vernon knocked my hand out of the way. The woman stared.

"I'll take them." Uncle Vernon said, standing up quickly and following her out of the room.

"Wouldn't it be better to go home, dear?" Aunt Petunia suggested timidly, hours later, but Uncle Vernon didn't seem to hear her. Exactly what he was looking for, I didn't know and I didn't think anyone else knew either. He drove us into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car and off we went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a ploughed field, halfway across a suspension bridge and at the top of a multi-storey car park.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked Petunia dully late that afternoon. Uncle Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them all inside the car and disappeared.

It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Dudley sniveled.

"It's Monday," he told his mother. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a _television_."

Monday. I had totally forgotten. I shared a look with Harry and knew that we were both thinking exactly the same thing. I knew that there was no doubt that it was a Monday – Dudley watched so many television programmes that you could always count on him to know which day it was. And the day after Monday was Tuesday and Tuesday was mine and Harry's eleventh birthday. Of course, our birthdays never were exactly fun – last year, the Dursleys had given us a coat hanger and a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks. Harry had the socks and I had the coat hanger, as if I'd ever touch something Vernon's feet had touched. Still, you weren't eleven every day.

Uncle Vernon was now back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he'd bought.

"Found the perfect place!" he said. "Come on! Everyone out!"

It was very cold outside the car. Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out to sea. Perched on the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One thing was certain, there was no television there.

"Storm forecast for tonight!" said Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!"

A toothless old man came ambling up to them, pointing, with a rather wicked grin, at an old rowing boat bobbing in the iron-grey water below them.

"I've already got us some rations," said Uncle Vernon, "so all aboard!"

It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down our necks and a chilly wind whipped our faces. After what seemed like hours we reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.

The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms.

Uncle Vernon's rations turned out to be a packet of crisps each and five bananas. He tried to start a fire but the empty crisp packets just smoked and shriveled up.

"Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said cheerfully.

He was in a very good mood but I don't think anyone else was. I wanted to punch the idiot in the face. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching us here in a storm to deliver post. It looked like everyone agreed with him. I patted Harry on the shoulder and sent him a smile.

As night fell, the promised storm blew up around us. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Petunia found a few mouldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. Petunia and Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door and me and Harry was left to find the softest bit of floor we could find and curl up under the thinnest, most ragged blanket together.

The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Both me and Harry couldn't sleep. Harry shivered and turned over, probably trying to get comfortable. My stomach rumbled with hunger. The pig in the wig's snores was drowned by the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. The lighted dial of Dudleys watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, told me that me and Harry would turn eleven in ten minutes' time. Me and Harry watched each other, counting down the minutes.

"Do you think they remember?" Harry asked me quietly.

"Na, doesn't matter though. We've got each other to celebrate with." I told him with a smile. He smiled back gently.

Five minutes to go. I heard something creak outside, I hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in on us. Mmm, maybe the house in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when we got back that one of us could sneak one away.

One minute to go and we'd be eleven. Thirty seconds ... twenty ... ten – nine – maybe we'd wake Dudley up, just to piss him off – three – two – one –

BOOM.

The whole shack shivered and me and Harry sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in. Me and Harry shared a quick wide-eyed glance. _Who _on earth was outside?


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi, I hope you all enjoy this chapter.**

**Please don't forget to review xx**

* * *

**Introduction:**

BOOM. They knocked again. Dudley Jerked awake.

"Where's the cannon?" he asked stupidly.

There was a crash behind them and Uncle Vernon came skidding into the room. He was holding a rifle in his hands - now they knew what had been in the long, thin package he had brought with them.

"Who's there?" he shouted. "I warn you - I'm armed!"

There was a pause. Then -

SMASH!

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor.

A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all tha hair.

The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door and fitted it easily back into it's frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little. He turned to look at them all.

* * *

**Sam's POV**

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey ..."

The giant strode over to the sofa where Dudley sat frozen in fear. Couldn't reall blame Dudley this time, could I?

"Budge up, yeh great lump," said the wild stranger.

Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind Aunt Petunia, who was crouching, terrified, behind Uncle Vernon.

"An' here's the twins! Harry an' Samantha!" said the giant.

I answered by blinking dumbly. How did he know our names? I looked closly at the giant's face and saw that his beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile. Well, that was a good sign.

"Las' time I saw you two, you was only babies," said the giant. "Yeh both look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mum's eyes."

I just blinked with wide eyes but Uncle Vernon made a funny rasping noise.

"I demand that you leave at once, sir!" he said. "You are breaking and entering!"

"Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune," said the giant. He then reached over the back of the sofa, jerked the gun out of Uncle Vernon's, bent it into a knot as easily as if it had been made of rubber, and threw it into a corner of the room.

Uncle Vernon made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on. I felt a bright smile work it's way onto my face. I loved this man already.

"Anyway - Harry, Samantha," said the giant, turning his back on the Dursleys, "a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here - I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

Me and Harry shared a quick glance, one filled with raised eyebrows and grins off both of us. From an inside pocket of his black overcoat the giant pulled a slightly squashed box. Harry opened it with trembling fingers and I looked over his shoulder to see what was in it. Inside the box was a large, sticky chocolate cake with _happy birthday Harry & Samantha_ written on it in green icing.

"Thanks." I said in a breathless voice to the giant without looking up.

I looked at Harry waiting for him to say it as well but instead he asked, "Who are you?"

I rolled my eyes at Harry and pinched his arm.

"Ow." he muttered.

"You should have said 'thank you' first," I hissed.

The giant just laughed at us.

"True, I haven't introduced myself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

Where?

The giant held out an enormous hand and shook Harry's whole arm. I'm glad he didn't try and shake my hand.

"What about that tea then, eh?" He said, rubbing his hands together. "I'd not say no ter summat stronger if yeh've got it, mind."

His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shrivelled crisp packets in it and he snorted. He bent down over the fireplace; I tried to see what he was doing but just before I got up to see what he was doing he drew back and there was a roaring fire there. Wow, I just loved this guy more with every passing second. The fire filled the whole damp hut with flickering light and I felt warmth wash over me as though I'd just sunk into a hot bath.

The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat; a copper kettle, a squashy pack of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs and a bottle of some amber liquid which he took a swig from before starting to make tea. Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausages. Nobody said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, I saw Dudley fidget a little. Uncle Vernon said sharply, "Don't touch anything he gives you, Dudley."

The giant chuckled darkly.

"Yer great puddin' of a son don' need fattenin' any more, Dursley, don' worry."

Ha, LOL. He passed half the sausages to me and the other half to Harry, we were both so hungry and to me they tasted absoloutly wonderful. I took a quick peek at Harry and saw that he hadn't taken his eyes off the giant. I decided to watch the giant as well.

"So ... um, we're sorry, but ..." I started off slowly.

"We still don't really know who you are." Harry finished.

The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Call me Hagrid," he said, "everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts - yeh'll know about Hogwarts, o' course."

"Er - no," Harry said.

Hagrid looked shocked.

"Sorry," Harry said quickly and I stifled a laugh.

"_Sorry_?" barked Hagrid, turning to stare at the Dursleys, who shrank back into the shadows. "It's them as should be sorry! I knew yeh wren't gettin' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learnt it all?"

"All what?" I asked and I have to admit that I felt like a bit of a blonde.

"ALL WHAT?" Hagrid thundered. "Now wait jus' one second!"

Hagrid had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. Vernon, Petunia and Dudley were cowering against the wall.

"Do you mean ter tell me," he growled at the three cowering against the wall, "that these twins - this boy an' girl! - knows nothin' abou' - about ANYTHING?"

Well maybe this was going a bit far - I mean, I paid attention in history and some of the other subjects from time to time. Harry obviously felt similar.

"We know _some_ things," he said. "We can, you know, do maths and stuff and Sam's really good at history."

But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, "About _our_ world, I mean. _Your_ world. _My_ world. _Yer parents' world._"

"What world?" I asked.

Hagrid now looked as if he was about to explode.

"DURSLEY!" he boomed.

Uncle Vernon, who had gone very pale, whispered something that sounded like 'Mimblewimble'. Hagrid stared widly between me and Harry.

"But yeh must know about yer mum and dad," he said. "I mean, they're _famous_. _Yer_ famous."

"What? My - our mum and dad weren't famous, were they?" Harry asked with wide eyes.

"Yeh don' know ... yeh don' know ..." Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, giving Harry and me a berwildered stare.

"Yeh don' know what yeh _are_?" he asked finally.

Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice.

"Stop!" he commanded. "Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell them anything."

A braver man than Vernon would have quailed under the furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage.

"You never told them? Never told them what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer them? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you've kept it from them all these years?"

"Kept _what_ from us?" I asked Hagrid eagerly.

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Vernon in obvious panic.

Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror.

"Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh," said Hagrid. "Harry - yer a wizard, and Samantha - yer a witch."

There was only silence in the hut for a few moments. Only the sea and the whistling wind could be heard. A witch? I couldn't be a witch - not to be vain but they were too ugly.

"I'm a _what_?" Harry gasped. I just sat with my mouth hanging open.

"A wizard, o' course." said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower, "An' yer a witch, Sam. An' thumpin' good'uns, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, what else would yeh two be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh read yer letters."

Harry stretched out his hand to take the two yellowish envelopes. Why they now decided to give us seperate ones again I don't know. Harry read the addressess and gave one to me. It was addressed in emerald green to _Miss S. Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. _I pulled out my letter the same time Harry pulled out his. I read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Miss Potter,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress

What the _hell_? Oh my God. I was going to a school that taught magic to witch's and wizard's. Right now I was so thankfull that we weren't in the eighteen hundereds. I would not like to be burned at the steak. I suddenly realized there was a long silence and I opened my mouth to ask a question but my twin beat me to it.

Harry stammered, "What does it mean, they await my owl?"

Yeah ... I was a bit curious about that as well.

"Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me," said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a horse, and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl - a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl. Aw, the poor thing had probably been suffocating in there. Hagrid also pulled out a long quill and a roll of parchment from his pocket. With his tongue between his teeth Hagrid scribbled a note which I could just about read upside-down:

Dear Mr Dumbledore,  
Given Harry and Samantha their letters. Taking them to buy their things tomorrow. Weather's horrible. Hope you're well.  
Hagrid

Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door and threw the owl out into the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as talking on the telephone and maybe it was that normal for wizards and witch's.

Harry had his mouth hanging open so I pinched his arm.

"Ow!" he hissed, but he did close his mouth.

"Where was I?" said Hagrid, but at that very moment, Uncle Vernon, still ashen-faced but looking angry, decided to be brave and moved into the firelight.

"They're not going," he said.

Hagrid grunted and said to him, "I'd like ter see a great Muggle like you stop him."

"A what?" I asked with a frown.

"A Muggle," said Hagrid. "It's what we call non-magic folk like them. An' it's your bad luck you grew up in a familyo' the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on.

"We swore when we took them in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Uncle Vernon, "swore we'd stamp it out of them! Wizard and witch, indeed!"

"You _knew_?" I exclaimed.

"You _knew_ I'm a - a wizard and Sam's a witch?"

"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. "_Knew!_ Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that - that _school_ - and came home every holiday with her pockets full of frog-spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was - a freak! But my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"

Aunt Petunia stopped for a moment to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. To me, it seemed she'd be dieing to have a go at our dead mother for years.

"Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you two, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as - as - _abnormal_ - and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you two."

Harry had gone deathly white but I was pissed. I jumped up of the floor and pointed an accusing finger at her, "BLOWN UP?! You told us they died in a _car crash_!"

"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that Vernon, Petunia and Dudley scuttled back to their corner. "How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry and Samantha Potter not knowing their own story when every kid in our world knows their names!"

"But why?" I cried, suddenly floping back down next to Harry.

"What happened?" Harry asked urgently.

The anger faded fast from Hagrids face. He looked suddenly anxious. Was it really that bad?

"I never expected this," he said, in a low, worried voice. I think he was more talking to himself rather than me and Harry. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh both, how much yeh both didn't know. Ah, Harry ... Samantha, I don't know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh - but someone's gotta - yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'."

He threw a dirty look at the three hudled in the corner.

"Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh - mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, part of it ..."

Hagrid sat back down and stared into the fire for a few seconds and then he said, "It begins, I suppose, with - with a person called - but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows -"

"Who?" I demanded.

"Well - I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"Gulpin' gargoyles, Harry, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went ... bad. As bad as you could go. Worse than worse. His name was ..."

Hagrid gulped loudly, but no words came out and after a few seconds Harry spoke up.

"Could you right it down?" Harry suggested kindly.

"Nah - can't spell it. All right - _Voldemort_." Hagrid shuddered. "Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this - this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too - some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days, kids. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get freindly with strange wizards or witches ... Terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him - an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway.  
"Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head Boy an' Girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Knew-Who never tried to get 'emon his side before ... probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side.  
"Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em ... maybe be just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Hallowe'en ten years ago. You both was just a year old. He came ter yer house an' - an' -"

Hagrid suddenly stopped and pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose. Believe me when I say it sounded like a foghorn.

"Sorry," said Hagrid. "But it's that sad - knew yer mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find - anyway -  
"You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then - an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing - he tried to kill yeh both, too. Wanted ter make a real clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead, Harry? An' that mark on yer chest, Samantha? They was no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh - took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house, even - but it didn't work on you two, an' that's why yer both famous. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you two, an' he killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age - the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts - an' you both was only babies, an' you both lived."

My mind was going around and around in very painful circles. I couldn't believe it - I didn't want to believe it. And then I remembered a dream I'd had once. A blinding flash of green light, emptyness and then a high, cold, cruel laugh. But it couldn't be a memory of that night ... Could it?

I really wished he'd stop calling me Samantha and call me Sam like normal people.

I then noticed that Hagrid was watching us both sadly.

"Took yeh both from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh both ter this lot ..."

"Load of old tosh," Uncle Vernon said gruffly. I saw Harry jump out of the corner of my eye and I hate to admit it but I was startled as well, for a moment it had seemed they weren't even here. Vernon was glaring at Hagrid with clenched fist. Ooo, someone wasn't happy.

"Now you listen here," Vernon snarled at us. Ew. "I accept there's something strange about you two, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured - and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion - asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types - just what I expected, always knew they would come to a sticky end -"

Before Vernon could say even more insulting things about our parents and wizard Hagrid leapt from the sofa and drew a battered pink umbrella out from inside one of his many coat pockets. Pointing this at Uncle Vernon like a sword, Hagrid said in a voice shaking with anger, "I'm warning you, Dursley - I'm warning you - one more word ..."

Uncle Vernon seemed to defleat now and lose all the courage he'd had. I don't see why as I knew for a fact that if anyone had pointed that pink thing at me I would have burst out laughing. But Vernon was now flattened against the wall. Wimp.

"That's better," Hagrid said while breathing heavily, he trhen sat back down on the sofa, which sagged down all the way to the floor this time.

Harry got straight back to the conversation. "But what happened to Vol - sorry - I mean, You-Know-Who."

"Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he treid ter kill you two. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see ... he was gettin' more an' more powerful - why'd he go?

"Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opnion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don' reckon they could've done if he was comin' back.

"Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about yeh both finished him. There was somethin' about you two finished him. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on - _I_ dunno what it was, no one does - but somethin' about you two stumped him, all right."

Hagrid looked between me and Harry with respect blazing in hsi warm brown eyes. I gave him a small smile and turned to look at Harry who looked so ... so, disapointed. As if he'd just realised a horrible mistake.

"Hagrid," Harry said quietly. "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a wizard."

What? I starred at my twin gobsmacked while Hagrid laughed at Harry.

"Not a wizard, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?"

Of course he had! Harry was very strang, we both were. I remember when Petunia had cut his hair bald apart from the fringe and thge next day it had fully grown back. Not a wizard my ass.

Harry smiled at Hagrid, who was positivly beaming at him.

"See?" said Hagrid. "Harry Potter, not a wizard - you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts, you too Samantha. Beside's Harry haven't heard yer sister saying anything like that, now have yeh?"

Uncle Vernon obviously hadn't fought enough tonight and wanted another go at it. I really don't understand why he even bothered.

"Haven't I told you they're not going?" Uncle Vernon hissed. "They're going to Stonewall High and they'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and they need all sorts of rubbish - spell books and wands and -"

"If they want ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop them," growled Hagrid. Yeah, I know, growled. "Stop Lily an' James Potter's twin's goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. They're name's been down ever since there were born. He's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and they won't know themselves. They'll be with youngsters of their own sort, fer a change, an' they'll be under the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled-"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH THEM MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Vernon, once again cutting Hagrid off and insulting the wizard world - or just this Albus headmaster.

I could see that he had gone too far this time though. Hagrid siezed his umbrella and whirled it over his head. "NEVER -" he thundered. "- INSULT - ALBUS - DUMBLEDORE - IN - FRONT - OF - ME!"

He brought the umbrella swishing down throught he air to point at Dudley - there was a flash of violet light,a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal and the next moment Dudley was dancing round on the spot an dhad his hand clapsed over his ass. He was hwoling in pain and when he turned around, giving me and Harry a view on his curly pig's tail poking througha hole in his trousers.

Uncle Vernon roared. I howled, in laughter. Pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them.

I had tears rolling down my face, body bent inwards and my arms wrapped around my stomach and sides. I was gasping for breath but couldn't stop laughing. I wondered if you could die of laughter.

"Shouldn'ta lost me temper," I heard Hagrid say. Harry garbbed my arm and pulled me to the floor.

"Deep breaths." He ordered me quietly. I took a deep breath but then let out a giggle and then took another deep breath after seeing the fierce yet annoyed expression on Harry's face. Lol.

Hagrid continued ruefully, "But it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn't much left ter do."

I let out another round of laughter at this and tried to control it after seeing Harry's glare.

Hagrid cast us a sideways look under his bushy eyebrows.

"Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said. "I'm - er - not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'."

"Not allowed to do magic?" I choked out.

Hagrid continued as if he hadn't heard me. I don't think he did hear me to be honest. "I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff - one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job -"

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" Harry asked after giving me a look that screamed SHUT-UP! So I, um, shut up. Ha ha ha ha ...

"Oh, well - I was at Hogwarts myself but I - er - got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an- everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gameskeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

"Why were you expelled?" I asked curiosly. With no laughter, the moment was gone now - until I saw Pig Butt Dudley again. Smile.

"It's getting late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," Hagird said, in a not so obvious attempt to change the subject. I _really_ wanted to hear that story now. "Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that."

He took of his thick black coat and threw it to me and Harry.

"You can kip under that," Hagrid said. "Don' mind if it wiggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' dormice in one o' the pockets."

"Dormoice?" I squeaked.


End file.
